Kitten Around
by shadowmaat
Summary: Rick finds himself adopted by a stray kitten, whether he wants it or not. (Hints of Rickline at the end)


Rick was still a little bleary-eyed as he made his way through the halls to the lab. Mornings weren't his strong suit, anyway, and he'd spent half the night with a lady who seemed determined to hurl up her tonsils. Not exactly a rousing success on the date front, but better than some of the ones he'd had. Once he'd gotten her home safely he'd gone back to his own apartment and stared at the ceiling for a few hours while sleep evaded him. And now it was back to the daily grind of making science. Or whatever passed for science at Aperture these days.

He stopped for coffee at the vending machine- another sign of how desperate he was- and over the hiss-gurgle of faux coffee being faux brewed, he heard something squeak. He peered at the machine, which dutifully regurgitated coffee into a paper cup. He picked it up and heard another squeak. Shifting, he checked the hallway, but it was still early enough in the day that no one was in sight. He took a step and something attacked his foot.

"Ahh!" He lurched sideways, spilling molten coffee on his hand. "AAAHHH!"

Holding the rest of the cup in his good hand he tried to shake feeling back into his burning fingers and looked down. Two bright green eyes stared up at him from a puff of white fur with one black splotch. The end of his shoelace disappeared into a little pink mouth. A kitten. Just a kitten.

"What in blazes are you trying to do, get me killed?" He wiggled his foot, trying to dislodge it. The kitten slid off, landing on its back, paws waving in the air. "Who's dumb idea of a joke is this?" He glared at the hall, which persisted in being empty.

Having recovered, the kitten launched itself at him, tiny pinpricks digging in as it attempted to climb his leg.

"Ow! Dammit!" Setting his coffee back on the tray Rick knelt to deal with the tiny feline menace. "Bad cat! Rick is not a toy!" He carefully prised it off of his knee, using both hands to subdue it when it started to wriggle. Another squeak, long and plaintive.

"No," he said, setting it back on the floor. "Forget it. I don't even like cats."

It purred and batted at his fingers.

"Shoo. Go on back to whatever lab hatched you." He stood, grabbed his coffee, and pointed at the kitten. "Stay!"

He headed down the hall. This was not an auspicious start to the day. Not that he really had anything against cats, of course. Tigers? Awesome. Lions? Perfect. Leopards and panthers? Loved 'em. But the little tame ones seemed to be genetically engineered to be a nothing but a nuisance. All teeth and claws and shedding fur. He'd had a girlfriend in college who'd dumped him because she said her cat was allergic to him. How stupid was that?

He entered the lab and made a beeline for his desk, ignoring Craig's far-too-cheerful greeting. Just after 5AM and the little nerd was already working. Sometimes Rick wondered if he ever actually left the lab at night. Wouldn't surprise him. He collapsed in his chair and sipped his lukewarm coffee.

"Starting a new project, Rick?" Craig inquired.

"No. I just couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" He scowled over the rim of his cup.

Craig's eyebrows rose over the frames of his glasses. "I meant that." He pointed down.

Rick looked. The kitten stared back up at him. Once it saw it had his attention it made a noise like the world's tiniest rusty hinge and rubbed against his leg.

"Aw, hell. I thought I told you to stay!" He nudged it away with his foot. It pounced on his shoelace, which had come untied.

"Cats make great listeners, but they aren't very good at following orders." Craig smiled. "You two should be perfect together."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, did you say something? I couldn't hear you over that obnoxious whine!"

"Exactly." Craig leaned back in his chair as if he'd actually made a point. "Just remember, you're cleaning up after her."

"I'm not cleaning up after anything! The damn hairball isn't mine." He frowned. "Wait, how do you know it's a girl?"

"You mean you can't tell?" Craig tapped his pen on his chin. "Maybe that's why you have so many problems getting a date."

"Hey, I don't have any- ow!" He looked down to see that the kitten was scaling his leg again. "Dammit, cat!" He pulled it- her- it off and set her on his desk to keep the thing from causing more trouble. It promptly knocked over the cup, spilling coffee across his desk. He swore some more.

Craig, meanwhile, wasn't even bothering to smother his laughter. Rick threw wads of soggy napkins at him while the kitten tried to drink what he'd missed.

"Don't let her lick it," Craig said, putting the napkins in the trash. "Caffeine is poisonous to cats."

Rick scooped up the kitten, swearing again. His morning was going from bad to worse. The kitten climbed his arm while he was trying to salvage his research notes, settling itself on his shoulder and leaning into him with an almighty purr.

"Not gonna help, you little flea trap," he told it. "I'm posting something on the public board to see if I can find which idiot in this place lost you."

His keyboard had miraculously escaped damage, so he pulled it closer and began typing. The kitten gradually quieted, except for the occasional whiffly snore, which was not cute at all and absolutely was not going to make him change his mind. For all he knew this thing could be radioactive. He paused, fingers hovering over the keys, as he considered that as an actual possibility. Nah. He finished the post and hit send. The kitten slept on.

"Don't get too attached," Craig warned, copying notes from his arm. "She probably belongs to someone."

"I know that!" Rick scowled, keeping his voice soft. "And I'm not attached! It probably has diseases."

"And you're letting it snuggle close to your airways, mucous membranes, and carotid artery. Good job."

Rick made a rude gesture and concentrated on work, ignoring kitten and labmate alike. He was well into his science groove by the time Kevin came in a few hours later. He ignored that greeting, too, but gradually realized his other labmate was staring at him. He glanced up, frowning.

"What?" He lifted a finger. "And so help me, if you say space…"

"White dwarf?" Kevin stood and came over to Rick's desk. "Fluffy white dwarf?"

"What- oh," he said as silky fur brushed against his jaw. "That. You can have her. It."

The lanky space nut slowly reached towards Rick's shoulder and swiped a finger along the kitten's head. It woke up, its little pink tongue curling in an enormous yawn. It squeaked at Kevin, who beamed back at it.

"Name? What's its name?" He held out his hand so the kitten could sniff his fingers.

"It doesn't have a name because it isn't staying, dammit." He shrugged his shoulder, which didn't bother the kitten at all. "The owner will probably be by to claim it any minute. You can keep it with you til then."

Kevin was scritching it behind its ear, making it purr. Still not an endearing sound.

"Rick's in denial," Craig said. "The kitten has clearly chosen him. Until the real owner shows up, he's all hers."

"Is not, Four-Eyes." Rick tried to lift the kitten off his shoulder to hand it to Kevin, but it dug its claws in and wailed.

"Fact confirmed."

"No, it isn't!" He released the kitten and it immediately settled down again, purring. "Anyway, I didn't choose her! It!" He twisted his head, trying to look at the kitten. "Y'hear that? I didn't choose you, dammit!"

It chirped and stretched forward, pressing its nose to his cheek.

"Augh!" He tried to wipe it off.

Chuckling, Kevin gave the kitten a final pat and retreated to his desk. "You're caught in her orbit now, Rick."

He didn't bother to argue, but did check the bboard to see if anyone had responded to his post. No luck. His attempt to get back to work was foiled by rasping squeaks that got progressively louder the more he tried to ignore them. And then the kitten stuck its nose in his ear and purred loud enough to make his teeth vibrate.

"Gahh!" He jerked his head to one side, rubbing his ear. "What in tarnation was that for, dammit?"

"She's probably hungry." Craig didn't even look up from his notes. "Kittens need to be fed three to four times a day and there's no way to tell when she last ate."

"Space food," Kevin chimed in.

After another loud warble in his ear, Rick gave up. Muttering under his breath, he went over to raid the fridge. In amidst the carefully labeled trays of goo, the cans of soda (and beer disguised as soda), and a stray moon rock, was a half-eaten sandwich from… Monday? There was no mold on it, anyway, and the meat hadn't turned green.

"I assume it's safe to feed her- it- ham, right?" Rick glanced at Craig while the kitten paced across his back from one shoulder to the other, purring louder than ever. "Or are you going to tell me kittens are kosher, now?"

"Ham contains protein, potassium, iron, and vitamins B-6 and B-12. Among other things."

Rick waited for more of an answer, then shook his head. "A simple 'yes' would have been find, ya dweeb." He broke off a piece of the ham, and offered it to the kitten. She sniffed it a few times, licked off the mustard, and then nibbled it off his finger. Not cute. Not charming. He fed her another piece. She ate that, too, her tail swishing back and forth to tickle the back of his neck.

Once she seemed to have had enough he went back to his desk to find a developing tray full of shredded paper waiting for him.

"Space waste," Kevin said. "You're going to need it."

Rick swore some more, especially when his attempts to make the kitten use the litterbox only resulted in getting shredded paper everywhere, including a piece that curled around her head, acting like a brim to the hat-like splotch of black that tilted over one ear. Or at least that's what it might look like if you cared enough to notice. Which he didn't.

"Her real owner better come and pick her up soon, dammit."

The kitten chirped and looked up at him. He frowned.

"Now what?"

Craig cleared his throat. "She probably thinks her name is Dammit."

Rick stared at him. "Where in heck would she get a stupid idea like that?"

"Well, you _have_ used that word in direct relation to her at least a dozen times this morning." He smiled.

"I have not, dammit!"

The kitten chirped again and waved its forepaws in the air.

"Aw, hell." He felt his heart sink. "That isn't your name, d- dagnabit!" He help the kitten on one palm and stared into its eyes. "You hear me, furball? That isn't your name."

She stretched forward until their noses touched and then gave him a tiny lick. He sighed.

"If you don't want her to answer to it then you'd better give her a new name," Craig said.

"I don't need to give her a new name because-"

"I'm not keeping her!" The other two chimed in with him.

He glared. "Well, I'm not. Someone's going to claim her. You'll see." He placed the kitten on his shoulder again. "We're- _I'm_ going for a walk. You two see if you can get yourselves under control while I'm gone."

He stalked out of the room, trying to ignore the kitten nibbling at his hair. He hadn't gone very far when a much lovelier vision rounded the corner.

"Why, Miss Caroline!" He smiled. "Aren't you just a pretty sight for sore eyes!"

Caroline looked up from her clipboard. She was wearing a modest but curve-hugging cream dress and her scarf-of-the-day was green. He wondered if that meant something.

"Hello, Richard!" She smiled. "As a matter of fact I was looking for you."

"You were?" His hands fluttered, so he stuck them on his hips in a manly pose. "I mean, well, I'd be happy to help you with any of your, uh… anything." Smooth. Real smooth. He kept his grin in place.

"Yes." Her eyes were locked on his shoulder. "I understand you found a stray kitten this morning."

He felt a flash of panic, his hand automatically moving up to try and cover the kitten, who was pressed against the side of his neck, shivering.

"Oh, uh, this little thing?" He chuckled. "Yeah, uh, funny thing, that…"

"There's a team in Genetics that would be very very happy to take it in for you." She reached out to pet it and Rick caught himself trying to flinch away from her.

"No! I mean, what? Ha! No, that, uh, won't be necessary."

She was petting the kitten, but every once in a while her fingers also brushed against his neck. It was scrambling his brain and making it impossible to concentrate.

"That is… I- I mean, uh… I think I'll… I'll keep her." He stared into her warm, brown eyes. "She's very pretty."

"That she is. Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Caroline's gaze shifted to meet his and this time the flutters were in his stomach.

"Name?" He blinked. Oh, the kitten. "Oh, the kitten! Uh…" He said the first word that popped into his head. "Danger. Her name is Danger."

Caroline laughed. It was a bright, bubbly sound that threatened to ruin what little focus he had. "Danger, huh? That's an interesting name for a kitten." She took a step closer.

He breathed in the intoxicating scent of her strawberry shampoo and smiled. "I like to think that everyone needs a little Danger in their lives. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Caroline?"

"Is that so?"

She was still looking at him. Still smiling. His heart sped up. Their faces were so close, now. All he had to do was lean forward a little bit and-

"CAVE JOHNSON, HERE." The intercom crackled to life.

Rick yelped and leaped a foot backwards, dislodging the kitten. His hands shot up to catch her and he felt heat burn through his face.

Caroline's smile had faded, just a little bit. "I'll see you later, Richard. Good luck with handling Danger."

"Yeah!" He watched her turn and walk away as Mr. Johnson's announcement continued to play _way louder_ than necessary. "Yeah, uh… I can handle… everything… y'know."

She was already gone. He looked down at the kitten in his arms.

"That could've gone better." He sighed. "But hey, maybe you aren't such a nuisance after all. I might even keep you. For a while."

Danger yawned and closed her eyes, purring.

"Just don't get too used to it." He turned and headed back to the lab with his new companion, wondering if things were finally starting to improve.


End file.
